


(Both Your Assumptions Are Correct)

by Lady_Vibeke



Series: Two Bisexuals Walk Into a Coffee Shop [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Bisexual Cara Dune, Bisexual Din Djarin, Crush at First Sight, Dirty Jokes, F/M, Flirting, Getting to Know Each Other, Puns & Word Play, Single Dad Din Djarin, Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, smitten idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23219416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Vibeke/pseuds/Lady_Vibeke
Summary: Cara notices his attire – a black t-shirt that has three emojis printed in the centre: an eye, a heart, and a rooster – and beneath them, between brackets, reads'BOTH YOUR ASSUMPTIONS ARE CORRECT'.She grins."Do you think that's the kind of shirt a man your age should wear?" she says, feigning an indignant tone."Oh." Hot Daddy turns to her, already blushing, and... damn,those eyes."It was the last clean-" he starts babbling, but then notices Cara's smile and immediately relaxes. He smiles, too. The sweetest, most adorable smile Cara has ever seen.Dammit.Hot Daddy is also unfairly cute."Just kidding," she reassures him, though it's not really necessary at this point, then moves aside her open leather jacket so that he can see: the shirt she's wearing isidenticalto his, only it has a cat emoji where his has a rooster.She winks."I love it."ORTwo bisexuals walk into a coffee shop. Accidental flirting happens. (Maybe they're instantly a little smitten with each other?)
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Two Bisexuals Walk Into a Coffee Shop [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671397
Comments: 21
Kudos: 168





	(Both Your Assumptions Are Correct)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Name1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/gifts).



> Warning: major flirting and dirty jokes ahead! Proceed with care.
> 
> Dedicated to Name1, because we have way too much fun with these two idiots. (Still hatelove you, BTW.)

Cara rarely ventures too far from the gym after her workout sessions, but today the café in front of the gym was so crowded she couldn't even get close to the door, so she decided to try the one two streets down.

It's a much smaller place, but way nicer and cosier. There is a line at both cash registers, but it's not that long, so Cara queues up and as she waits she tries to decide what she wants. They have a lot of unusual options, maybe today she can try something new.

In the line next to her, a man is talking to himself under his breath.

No, correction: he's talking to the small baby he's carrying in a sling across his torso.

Cara is not a babies person, but she does have a thing for big, strong men being soft for their children, and this one happens to have a very sexy voice that keeps titillating her attention.

She turns a little, just for curiosity, and her heart quivers.

_Oh, no, he's hot._

Handsome face, broad shoulders, trim waist, long legs... perfect ass.

Cara notices his attire – a black t-shirt that has three emojis printed in the centre: an eye, a heart, and a rooster – and beneath them, between brackets, reads _'_ _B OTH YOUR ASSUMPTIONS ARE CORRECT'._

She grins. What a funny coincidence.

"Do you think that's the kind of shirt a man your age should wear?" she says to the guy, feigning an indignant tone.

"Oh.” Hot Daddy guiltily looks down at himself, then turns to her, already blushing, and... damn, _those eyes._ “It was the last clean-" he starts babbling, but he notices Cara's smile and immediately relaxes. He smiles, too – the sweetest, most adorable smile Cara has ever seen.

Damn.

Hot Daddy is also unfairly _cute._

"Just kidding," she reassures him, though it's not really necessary at this point, then she moves aside her open leather jacket so that he can see: the shirt she's wearing is _identical_ to his, only it has a cat emoji where his has a rooster.

She winks. "I love it."

Hot Daddy's smile spreads, revealing a couple of dimples that do things to Cara's heart as he explains:

"It's an ironic present from my boss. Because I'm bisexual and we actually have a pet rooster at home."

Cara can barely hold back a snort: who even has a pet rooster nowadays? She's positively impressed. Also: _bisexual._ Good. _Excellent._ It would have been such a pity if he had only liked... _roosters._

"Yeah, same,” she replies, her grin widening. “I mean, I have a cat, obviously, but same principle."

She can tell by the slight curl to the right the guy's smile takes that he, too, is pleased by the bisexual detail. Judging by how hard his eyes are trying not to look at her own shirt Cara guesses, a little smugly, that there's something more than the cheeky slogan that caught his attention.

She chuckles to herself: it's not her fault this t-shirt is two sizes too small on her boobs. _It was the last one._

"I'm Din,” Hot Daddy says, unwrapping an arm from around his baby to hold out his hand to her – a beautifully manly hand, all tendons and vein patterns.

She shakes it, and a little shiver runs down her spine when his strong grip shakes back. He's pleasantly warm.

"Cara."

Hot Daddy – _Din_ – steps forward; it's his turn.

There's still a couple of people in front of Cara. Pity, she was enjoying the nice vibes this guy gives off.

"What are you getting, Cara?"

She looks ahead: Din is glancing back at her, card ready to pay. The girl at the register sends Cara a knowing smirk and mouths _'He's hot!'._

Cara doesn't normally let strangers buy her stuff, but this one has an infant and he looks so disarmingly adorable she just can't find the moral strength to say no.

"Cappuccino, two shots of espresso,” she says, biting her lower lip with a little flattered grin. “Thanks."

"No problem."

They move aside with their cups and head to the side counter for sugar and milk. Din also ordered a giant donut covered in chocolate and rainbow sprinkles that makes Cara's mouth water, but if her trainer finds out she even looked at it she's going to have to run twenty miles, tomorrow.

"Does your better half know you go around buying coffees for gorgeous strangers, Din?" she asks in perfect nonchalance as Din pours some milk in his grande black americano.

"They would,” he says, tilting his head in her direction. “If I had one."

The mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes tells Cara that the game is on: he likes her, too.

"Okay. I see where this is going."

He innocently arches his brows. "Do you?"

Cara starts stirring her cappuccino with a casual shrug. "You buy me a coffee, we chat, I like you, you like me, and before I know I'll be at your place petting your cock."

She sees Din try _really_ hard not to chuckle. He's tremendously handsome, but those eyes are giving her a hard time staying focused. He sends her a sideways glance, dimples deepening.

"Only if I can pet your pussy in return."

"I don't know,” Cara sits back on the counter and watches him struggle with putting the lid back onto his cup with just one hand as the other holds the baby's back protectively. “She's quite difficult to please."

She takes a slow sip. Their eyes lock.

"Is that a challenge?" he inquires, and Cara curses this sexy voice of his for giving her goosebumps all over her arms.

_So. Unfairly. Cute._

"Damn, I think I actually like you," she mutters, almost to herself, but it's meant to be heard, and Din does hear it, and this ups his smile game by a million watts.

Cara feels dangerously weak.

"So,” he says as he nods toward a table nearby. “Wanna keep us company?"

This might be going anywhere, or even nowhere, but Cara kind of has a thing for this guy and his kind eyes and sharing a coffee won't hurt either of them, right?

"You had me at _'I Love Cock',_ so..."

"Aren't you two ashamed of yourselves?” chides an elderly lady brushing past them while they sit down. She stops specifically to glare at them: “Dirty talking like that in front of a baby!"

Din's left arm is curled around his baby, who's sleeping so soundly he couldn't hear a single word even if he could understand. Cara offers the lady an unimpressed gaze.

"A lot of dirty talks lead to a baby, you know?" she retorts suavely, and the woman looks so outraged by her nerve that she just sets her chin and stalks away complaining about young people's lack of manners.

Cara snickers to herself and goes back to her cappuccino. Din is observing her intently, looking very amused. Cara _adores_ the way he holds the baby tighter as his chest is shaken by laughter.

"That was a masterful cold-blooded murder.”

Cara watches him from above her cup. This guy really knows what he's doing.

"You met me like five minutes ago and you already know how to flatter me,” she remarks, licking some cream off her lips. “I'm impressed."

She doesn't miss the way Din's gaze follows her tongue, nor how he swallows after that. He drinks some of his coffee, but it's not going to help with that kind of _thirst._

"You seem to be very aware of your beauty,” he replies amiably. “I'm not fond of pointing out the obvious."

Cara smirks inwardly. This guy's game is strong.

"Smooth,” she congratulates, prompting a modest laugh from him. “Keep going, this might get you places."

"Could it get _you_ to my place?"

"Maybe. If your cock doesn't scare me away."

"It's pretty big," he says apologetically.

Cara nearly spits out her cappuccino. This can't be good, she likes this man way too much for her taste. She met him literally five minutes ago, for fuck's sake.

"Show me," she dares.

"You're very straightforward." Din quirks a brow at her with a funny expression. Oh, hell, why does he have to look so adorable?

Cara sits back in her chair, lets her knees spread under the table.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Din's thumb absently strokes his baby's head while he takes his time to scrutinise Cara as though he was trying to break her like a code. A code he seems very fascinated by, incidentally. Not that Cara is paying any particular attention to how he looks at her.

In the end, Din dips his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and fishes out his phone.

"Just so you know,” he warns. “I don't normally show my cock to people I just met.”

It's a miracle that Cara somehow manages not to snort her cappuccino out of her nose. She sets the cup down, coughing, and shoots Din a playful glower.

He pushes his phone across the table: there is a picture of a small garden on the screen, and in the middle of the grass stands a colourful rooster that looks twice as big as Cara's cat.

“This is Martin,” says Din. “He's a rescue. He's a really good boy, once he gets used to you.”

The genuine affection in his tone warms Cara's soul: she loves animals and to know that Din is so fond of this funny little guy is just further proof of his kindness.

“Are the neighbours okay with being woken up at sunrise by Martin?” she quips, but Din responds with a mirthless shake of his head.

“The farmer they took him from cut his vocal cords to prevent him from crowing.”

"Son of a bitch,” spits Cara before she can refrain herself. She immediately regrets it: Din has a _baby_ right there, what sort of person curses before a _baby?_ “Oh, sorry, kid,” she mumbles awkwardly. “Unhear what I just said, please."

"It's fine,” Din laughs. “Sometimes I let something slip, too. He's only nine weeks old, I have time to downgrade my swearwords repertoire."

"Well, since you showed me your cock,” Cara says, retrieving her own phone from her jacket. “I might as well show you my pussy.”

They share a smirk – a _very_ flirtatious smirk. If Cara isn't walking out of here with Din's number, he's most definitely going to walk out of here with hers.

She swipes through the hundreds of pictures of her beautiful calico baby until she finds one where she's actually sitting like a proper cat and is not ungraciously sprawled somewhere like an old rug.

“Meet my baby girl Clawdia."

Din turns the phone and Cara feels stupidly happy when she sees his face brighten up with a delighted smile.

He looks up at her and says: "Please, tell me you spell it C-L-A-W-D-I-A.”

This is _not_ fair. Handsome, fine. Witty, alright. But how can she not crush hard on this guy when they share exactly the same arguable sense of humour?

"I can't believe you just ruined my punchline!" she groans.

Din apologetically ducks his head.

"You _do?"_

Cara shows him another picture where the collar tag clearly shows the spelling of the cat's name and he bursts out laughing.

So. Cute.

His laughter disturbs the baby, who starts fussing so lightly Cara can't even hear it over Din's gentle soothing noises. He's still gazing down at the kid (with a face so enamoured Cara can't help feeling a bit infected by it) when he says:

"Would you believe me if I told you my favourite childhood toy was a stuffed lion called Clawed?"

It's like a spell has fallen upon Cara. She never liked children and never even considered dating fathers, but what she's seeing is working its way to her heart so dangerously easily that she feels like she has no say in this: she can only watch. Watch and slip a little further down a path she isn0t even sure how she got to.

"If you were someone else, I'd call bullshit,” she replies. “But for some reason I believe you.”

"It's the kid. He inspires trust."

"What's his name, anyway?"

Din cups the baby's head with a proud smile.

"Luca."

An unconventional name. Cara likes it.

"Hey, buddy.” She doesn't know if Din is comfortable with his baby being touched by people, so she just pokes a finger into the kid's butt through the sling. “Nice to meet you.”

The baby squirms with a feeble mewl and wiggles his little face into his father's chest. A longing Cara has never felt before tugs at her heart, giving her ghosts of thoughts that leave her puzzled and slightly scared.

She sinks back in her chair, her pulse climbing for reasons she'd rather not think about.

“So, what's the story?” she asks, exhaling a deep breath. She picks up her cup and takes a quick sip before she continues: “Hot single dad with a fresh newborn... you don't see it every day.” Her eyes go wide as the words leave her mouth. “Did his mother-"

Din doesn't need her to finish to understand what she means, and fortunately his response is a nod of denial.

"Nothing like that. We'd been together for about six months when she got pregnant. She wanted to get an abortion. I wanted the kid. I'm lucky she agreed to carry the pregnancy to term. As soon as Luca was born, she had me sign a few papers where I relieved her from any financial responsibility, and in return she was kind enough to sign away any right on Luca.”

“What a sweetheart,” comments Cara, who might be strutting a little because no tragic backstory means easier new relationships. In case he's looking for any. Incidentally.

“Good riddance,” says Din without a single trace of regret. “We wouldn't have lasted, anyway, even without Luca.”

At this point, Cara is fairly certain he's subtly reassuring her about his sentimental status. Cara happily notes it down: free and available.

“So here you are, now,” she grins. “Picking up strangers in coffee shops.”

“ _Gorgeous_ strangers,” he corrects, and, yep, Cara is definitely a goner. She's never been hit on so gallantly in her entire life.

“I thought you didn't like pointing out the obvious?”

“I was merely quoting the stranger's own words. Very accurate, by the way.”

Cara giggles. “You're trying to make me blush, aren't you?”

“I'm curious to see if you _can.”_

She's fucked. She's so _so_ fucked. Hot Daddy Din just blasted all competition out there, men and women. If this thing ends here, Cara will never be able to go out with anyone else without making unfair comparisons. This man right here set the bar too high.

“You know,” she smirks. “At this rate I think Martin and Clawdia are going to meet _very_ soon.”

“Yeah?” Din's hopeful beam is too shameless to be serious – or _entirely_ serious.

Cara nibbles at her lower lip. “I sense a good chemistry, here.”

“I agree. What were the odds of two people so surprisingly compatible meeting here today?”

“Don't forget wearing the same idiotic shirt,” she interjects, pointing a finger at him while rising her cup. She downs the last bit of her cappuccino with a satisfied moan. “I was so sleepy this morning,” she adds. “I wasn't even paying attention to what I was putting on.”

Din has slid down his chair, an ankle resting on the opposite knee in a deliciously relaxed pose. The baby is sprawled upon him, still fast asleep. His hands, one over the other, cover his whole tiny back like a loving shield.

“All my decent clothes are piled up in the washing room. This is literally my last clean t-shirt, and I was lucky I had this. I didn't realise _which one_ it was until I was already outside.”

A picture forms in Cara's mind: this fancy, luminous house scattered with baby stuff in every corner and Din's things completely swallowed by toys and baby clothes. Cara admires him for his courage: raising a child on his own must be tough, but he seems so happy to have Luca that no one could ever doubt he doesn't regret this choice.

“Well,” she chuckles, leaning forward while folding her arms over the table. “You know what they say about luck.”

“Same thing they say about love?”

“I guess love _can_ be blind,” she argues. “But sometimes you just can't _not_ be glad you have perfectly functional eyes.”

“Believe me, I've never been so grateful of my ten tenths as I am right now,” he assures, and the look they share is so full of innuendos Cara can't even come up with something snarky enough to retort.

“You know, I normally don't like compliments, but I can tell this one is heartfelt.” She grins coyly at him. “So I'll forgive you.”

“ _Heart_ felt isn't the term I'd use in this case,” Din objects with a feeble sigh as he shifts his position as if to stress the concept. “But thanks.”

A soft laugh bubbles up Cara's chest. At this point she might as well throw her heart onto the table for him to take home.

“Cocky,” she quips, and this time it's his turn to laugh.

“Yes, that's what I was thinking of.”

In Cara's head a voice rises from a tangle of feelings and doubts, calling _'Timber!'._ She just realised she's in too deep in this, whatever _this_ is. It happened too fast, she wasn't expecting it, and now it's too late to retreat: she's either getting out of here gloating or crushed by disillusionment.

And Din just sits there, cuddling his kid so tenderly Cara is sure the ice caps at the Poles are melting along with her.

“You can't make dirty puns with a baby in your arms,” she huffs with a helpless sigh. “I can only guard my heart from so many fronts.”

Din scowls at her: “You've been doing that thing with your lip all along and I haven't complained _once._ Suffer in silence like me.”

The way they are looking at each other right now feels too intimate for two people who met only minutes ago. It's like they can see into one another, beyond mannerisms and facades, and there is no denying the connection they're both feeling, pulling them together with a force to strong and too _right_ for them to resist it.

“Are we for real?” she asks, half sceptical, half hopeful. “I mean, we've been flirting like horny teens all this time, and it's damn fun, but... No pressure, here, just wondering.”

Din is watching her intently, head pensively tipped to one side. The warmth in his eyes makes her feel like she's the most beautiful thing to have ever existed.

“Women usually bolt when they find out I have a kid,” he says, as if this answers her question.

She gets what he means, though: he's a father before a man and it's hard for most women to accept they don't come first for a partner. Cara doesn't really care: she doesn't need a man to validate her and certainly doesn't need to be constantly at the centre of attention to feel cherished.

“Yeah,” she agrees with a light shrug. “But I'm still sitting here, so...”

The dimples in Din's cheeks appear again, just above his stubble. _Goodbye, ice caps,_ Cara thinks, completely smitten.

“I wasn't sure you were serious about this... whole thing. Not just because I have a baby," he stresses. “I know when someone's out of my league.”

If there was any chance Cara could not pathetically tumble at this guy's feet, it just flew out of the window.

“Still sweet-talking to my ego?” She's so self-complacent she's afraid she might sound arrogant, but she just can't help it. “You either like me very much or you must _really_ want Martin and Clawdia to meet.”

Din's lips take a teasing curl. “In all honestly, I'd say both your assumptions are correct.”

Cara nearly _moans._ Between the jokes and the puns, there is a possibility she's already a little bit in love. Dammit.

“For one who wears a shirt that says _'I Love Cock',”_ she jabs. “You seem very fond of pussies.”

“Just yours, at the moment. Clawdia does seem quite interesting,” Din concedes, and Cara rolls her eyes.

“I'll admit Martin has his own charm.”

“We should probably switch shirts, at this point.”

“You're gonna have to try a little harder if you wanna get me out of my clothes.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmh-hm.”

Din bites his lip (is he mirroring her body language?) and suddenly Cara has a very precise idea of the effect her own lip biting has on him.

“What about dinner and a movie?” he proposes.

Cara's stomach fills with a warm flutter. This is it, it's happening: she and Hot Daddy Din are getting _there._

“Only if it's pizza and Star Wars.”

Din shakes his head as he lets out a soft laugh, watching her with something like awe glimmering in his look.

“You're a scam, aren't you? You're too perfect to be real.”

“Damn, you're _good._ I'm starting to feel my pants falling off, already.”

“Shall we say Friday at eight, my place? I'll see if my neighbour can keep Luca for a couple of hours.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” she interrupts with a scolding scowl. “I'm the intruder, here, not him.”

“Really?”

“I have a date with a _dad._ You and the kid are a package deal.” Just to prove her point, she decides to confess: “I was mentally calling you Hot Daddy before you gave me your name. That's part of your charm.”

Din's brows arch in surprise.

“Is it?”

“Hell yeah, buddy.”

When Din's coffee is over, too, they exchange numbers and leave the table, then head outside together. It's a beautiful summer day and Cara is quite positive it wasn't this sunny when she walked into the café.

She walks Din to his car, a couple of blocks up the street. He puts the baby into his carrier in the middle of the back seat and carefully fastens him. They baby coos up at him, his chubby hands waving in his direction like a greeting. Cara feels the aching tug in her chest again when Din takes Luca's hands a pretends to bite them between his lips. The baby gurgles cheerfully and Din giggles, kneeling on the seat with his back hunched. When he wiggles out of the car, Cara has basically forgotten how to breathe.

He stands in front of her, a merciless disarming smile stretching his lips as he gazes at her so intensely it makes her feel naked. They're close, too close for two people who know so little of each other. _And yet._

“I'm so glad you decided to wear this shirt, today,” he whispers, looking down at her emojis.

Cara licks her lips. Feeling his breath upon them is a sweet torture.

“And I'm glad your unwashed laundry forced you to wear this one.”

She looks up to meet his eyes and finds him closer than she expected. She fights the temptation to reach out and touch his face. It would be so inappropriate.

Din's head moves toward her. The tip of his nose brushes against her, and for a moment Cara thinks he's going to kiss her. He probably _was,_ but at the last second, just when his lips are about to touch hers, he pulls back with a faint apologetic laugh.

“I guess I'll see you the day after tomorrow, Cara,” he says as he respectfully straightens up.

Cara sighs inwardly. She didn't know people could be _cruelly_ chivalrous; apparently Hot Daddy Din just invented it.

“See you, Din,” she grins, and there she goes again with the lip bite. At least it makes Din smile.

He steps back, appearing very reluctant to leave her.

Cara watches him circle around the car to get to the driver's side and wants to say something, anything, just to delay the detachment. What is even wrong with her? She feels less attached to people she's known all her life.

It's silly, but she just can't help herself.

“Hey!” she calls right before he enters the car. Din looks up, his face painted with the same stupid bliss Cara feels all over herself.

She gives him a shit-eating grin.

“Don't pet Martin too hard, tonight, when you're thinking about me in the shower.”

Seeing a hint of guilt creep upon him along with a light but rather unmistakable blush is a delight Cara will never forget about. It's a picture she won't be able to push out of her mind until at least tomorrow night at eight.

In the meantime, that handsome blushing face is probably what _she_ will be thinking about in the shower, tonight.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> My first CaraDin Modern AU! Yay! I wrote this in like 24 hours after a sudden inspiration, hope you guys like it, because I had so much fun writing this!
> 
> Comments feed the writer's soul, just so you know. ❤
> 
>  **UPDATE: by popular demand (and with some kind collaboration from my muse), this is now a series. I'm not sure how many parts are following, but I would say at least a couple, so... Stay tuned!** 😉
> 
> UPDATE #2:
> 
>   
> Edit by the amazing [Mandalorianess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandalorianess/pseuds/Mandalorianess)


End file.
